


Darling is this love?

by RaeNonnyNonny



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Elbow - Freeform, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jhene Aiko - Freeform, London, Mutual Pining, Oxford, Pining, epigraphs, spot the sneaky Douglas Adams reference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:33:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaeNonnyNonny/pseuds/RaeNonnyNonny
Summary: Cormorant is lovesick, Robin is pining a bit too. Just the little things that each thinks when they're around each other and being angsty and piney as hell.Based on and with epigraphs from Elbow's 'Starlings' (because Cormoran likes them - Cuckoo's Calling, it's canon - and because the song is incredible and incredibly fitting). Please go and listen to it immediately, you won't regret it.Because I love Strike, Elbow and this song in particular a LOT and Guy Garvey can sing like a (big, beardy, Mancunian) angel.My first fic so be nice to me! Notes at the end which you may need if you don't know Oxford or London very well.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 15
Kudos: 31





	Darling is this love?

> _How dare the premier ignore my invitations? He'll have to_ go ...

Robin tells Strike, with a teasing note in her voice, that someone's been asking after him. An actress, Rachael. Robin met her at the weekend and she asked about Cormoran and (Robin emphasises this bit) his relationship status. "She's playing Beatrice in _Much Ado_ at the Globe this summer, I've seen her on posters in the tube." Cormoran rifles through the post, seeming strangely uninterested. "Uh huh. Where did you meet her?" "At the pub in Putney. We went there after the boat race with Nick and Ilsa. Do you want me to give you her number?"

"Not my type." He's still not looked at her, frowning down at an invoice he's just opened, then, nodding at her like a dismissal, walks silently to his office.

He runs his hand wearily through his hair. Nobody's his type at the moment. Nobody... else anyway. But he doesn't say that out loud, not even to his leg.

***

> _So too the bunch he luncheons with_
> 
> _It’s second on my list of things to do..._

Strike is in Oxford for lunch with a potential client. A **rich** client - they eat at the Randolph. Morse would have approved, Cormoran thinks wryly. He does think of Charlotte briefly, of how they met, but the sheen of a mannequin in the window of a posh dress shop catches the corner of his eye, and once again he's back in Vashti, taking in Robin in that bewitching green dress. He'd like to bring her to Oxford one day. They could walk round Christ Church Meadow, sneak into his old college, and she'd love the pubs - hell, he'd even take her punting if she wanted. She'd have to steer though.

Strike lingers after his meeting, absentmindedly taking in the familiar honeyed stone and a few old haunts - Turl Street secondhand bookshop always did have some good bargains for Classics - then he loops left into the Covered Market. He hesitates as he passes the ever-fragrant soap shop - they've got rose soap, just like Robin's perfume, maybe he should --- no. Too weird. He shakes his head. He wanders onto Broad Street, dodges the overfriendly fudge shop salesman and, on a whim, stoops and walks into a souvenir shop.

***

> _At the top I'm stopping by_
> 
> _Your place of work and acting like_
> 
> _I haven't dreamed of you and I_
> 
> _And marriage in an orange grove_

It's Monday morning. Robin is back at what Cormoran still thinks of as 'her' desk, even though they share it with others now, opening the post. Strike shuffles over and perches.

"How was Oxford?" she asks.

"Still standing. Got you something."

Robin looks up. "Oxford Blue cheese? A Catullus quote on a key ring?" she jokes. Cormoran smiles his lopsided smile. "No, but good idea. Slightly more upmarket. Here."

He pulls a small teddy wearing a graduation cap from his leather satchel, coughing gruffly, and plonks it down in front of her.

Robin laughs, beams, and, suddenly shy, takes the teddy, puts him on the desk next to her PC and pats it fondly on the head. "I’ll call him Catullus. Seems only fair." Strike manages to contain his sudden surge of jealousy for an inanimate object and admires the way the morning sunlight showcases her cheekbones.

"What did you get up to at the weekend?" he asks in return.

"Hampstead Heath with Vanessa, we went for a swim in the ladies pond. I've never swum with ducks before." A memory sidles slyly into his subconscious of the previous Thursday when Robin had been caught in a sudden shower as she popped to stock up on milk and biscuits. She had deposited quite a puddle on the office floor when she returned. In that moment her hair, normally a light red gold, though dulled by the water, had reminded Cormoran of the beautiful old-fashioned copper pans his Aunt Joan used to have hanging in her kitchen. He had tried not to dwell on the way her blouse had clung to her skin and hugged her curves.

Robin was still speaking. "Did you know you can get married on the Heath? There's a little pergola so it's outside but not really. It has to be somewhere with three walls or it isn't legally a wedding. We passed a bridal party on the way back. Everyone smiling at them, such beautiful roses in her hand." Robin smiles at the memory. "Clearly minted though - that DRESS!" she moans. Cormoran catches himself thinking that if they ever got married he wouldn’t mind if she turned up at Camden Registry Office wearing his Arsenal shirt with a bouquet of sea holly - she would still look amazing.

*

> _You are the only thing_
> 
> _In any room you're ever in_
> 
> _I'm stubborn, selfish and too old_

He's at Ilsa's birthday party (and, it turns out, surprise announcement party of imminent parenthood for her and Nick).  
Robin enters, in a low backed thick strapped broderie anglaise summer dress and Cormoran gulps, spluttering on his second can of Doom Bar. She catches his eye as she hugs Ilsa and smiles shyly. He nods nochalantly and trudges towards the patio doors to have a smoke, pondering the exact way he'd go about kissing the freckles along her neckline.

Jhené Aiko sings softly in the background and he thinks momentarily that it could be written about him and his relationship history ( _he don’t wife em, he one nights em_ ).

  
Nick comes out with snacks (bhajis, always welcome) and talks to Cormoran. What is he doing about Robin? She's single now, has been for months, he won't get this opportunity forever, why hasn't he just -

Cormoran, feeling like a broken record reading a long-memorised cons half of a pros and cons list he didn't realise he had committed entirely to memory, wearily runs through how he’s unsuitable. He likes his own space, too much probably, he keeps women at arms length emotionally and that's not fair on them, there's the job and anyway he’s pushing 40.

Jhene's crooning softly in the background like his own personal chorus:

> _Cause I usually do_   
>  _Stick to the business_   
>  _But you came out the blue_   
>  _And then you just flipped it_   
>  _God damn baby_   
>  _My mind's blown_

He looks over at Robin out of habit, a reflex, bored of how lovelorn he always feels looking at her, but never bored of her. She raises an eyebrow in his direction and wiggles a pack of Doom Bar, and he grins, beckoning her a tad too mock-seductively, before rubbing his head in embarrassment. She laughs. Hopefully she just thinks he's thirsty.

*

> _I sat you down and told you how_
> 
> _The truest love that's ever found is for oneself_
> 
> _You pulled apart my theory_
> 
> _With a weary and disinterested sigh_

Their usual Friday evening drink in the Tottenham. Strike is doing his pep talk voice, telling Robin authoritatively that she should cut loose a bit, leave work at the office, go out and make friends. It’s all about confidence and she has to believe in herself. She's got too much going for her to be hanging around with him every Friday night in an old man's boozer. She raises an eyebrow. "And you don't?" Cormoran opens and shuts his mouth.

An amused but irritated sigh. "You're m- We're friends, Cormoran. We hang out. This is where I want to be." She's got that intensity again but she says the last bit so gently. Like that other time, so early on, when she told him just how much she loved the work - their work - and Strike realised suddenly that, by implication, from that day Matthew and his misgivings had begun to lose ground. His heart thumps painfully loudly.

"Stop doing YOURSELF down. You could have Rachael if you wanted. Why, haven't you got the guts to give her a call?!" she teases.

Strike gazes at her, inscrutable, but doesn't answer.

***

> _So yes, I guess I'm asking you_
> 
> _To back a horse that's good for glue and nothing else_
> 
> _But find a man that's truer than_
> 
> _Find a man that needs you more than I_

Suddenly Strike is asking her weird questions. It's like it's Careers Day day at school and he's her teacher, trying to convince her to stay and doing her A-Levels there. Where do you want to go from here, Robin? I can’t give you loads of training but I’ll do my best. Maybe you want to take a course, go down a day at work so you can study... He trails off. His eyes feel like he is pleading with her to stay but his mouth is too principled and professional not to make clear how he knows she is worth so much more. ‘I can’t afford you Robin’, she thinks of when he said that, after her second week. But she stayed then, and she’ll stay now. "We’re partners." (She still can’t believe she gets to say this, even if, she thinks wistfully, only in business.) "I’m as invested as you are. I couldn’t stand going to Corporate HR after this. I'd miss the nutters file." He grind lopsidedly at her and nods ruefully, pathetically relieved.

But mainly I'd just miss you too much, thinks Robin.

***

> _Sit with me a while_
> 
> _And let me listen to you talk about_
> 
> _Your dreams and your obsessions_
> 
> _I'll be quiet and confessional_

When Robin enters his room/office to ask if they can talk, he’s got Starlings playing on the CD player again, for the hundredth time this year it feels like. He was planning to watch the Arsenal game but he mentally shelves that and says 'sure'.

"I thought I might take you up on that offer", Robin starts, nerves strangely fluttering in her stomach. "I... I think I want to go back to uni and finish my degree. Only part time! At Birkbeck, evening classes in Russell Square." she rushes to say. "I’d just need a bit of time off..."

Cormoran doesn’t say anything, his face his default glum, but his brows have lifted a bit. Is he disappointed? This is a stupid idea, Robin thinks. Why are you even asking him anyway? It’s your decision. Then he nods, pats the sofa, opens a bottle of wine and she’s staying.

‘What will the course be on?’

She beams, sits down and tells him all about it.

***

> _The violets explode inside me_
> 
> _When I meet your eyes_
> 
> _Then I'm spinning and I'm diving_
> 
> _Like a cloud of starlings_

Strike listens to what she's saying as the Elbow track continues to build, and suddenly he’s seeing her graduate... they're trashing Catullus, throwing Party Popper streamers over him like they do in Oxford after your final exam... Robin's looking smart in a fitted black dress, hair down and she looks so beautiful in her graduation cap. They go for a meal on the Southbank with Ilsa, Nick, their baby, and Vanessa. She seems so happy, just radiant, in her gown and cap.

Then it's later, it's just the two of them, night-time but still warm, late June. Hair fluttering as she walks along looking across the Thames, she swings her arms as talks about how she has been invited to lead a course for police about sexual assault and PTSD. ‘I want to help them to know how to do it right. Not everyone understands, I know that, but if I can show them...’ Cormoran stares at her silently, in awe of her strength. They’ve come to a halt under the twinkling blue lights outside the National Theatre. He gazes at her steadily, his heart so full of awe and pride and love. He reaches for her hand and with one of his, holds it and strokes her finger as he reaches into his pocket -

  
Back in his office, Robin calls to him, waving a hand in front of his face. ‘Earth to Cormoran? This is ground control to Major Strike, Are you receiving me?’  
He suddenly realises he's been staring at her. It reminds Robin of her wedding reception and the thought brings out goosebumps. Cormoran sees her bite her lip and his mouth goes dry.

Robin takes a deep breath, takes his hand, but before she can do anything else, he takes hers instead and presses it to his lips.

_Darling, is this love?_

The song gets to the good bit.

**Author's Note:**

> 1 Yes I named her Rachael after Rachael Stirling, Guy Garvey's partner (who really is an actress). META.  
> 2 The Boat Race - the Oxford-Cambridge boat race is a rowing race between Oxford University and Cambridge University that takes place every Spring on the Thames as it flows through London. I am aware how eccentric this sounds to anyone who is not English.  
> 3 Inspector Morse (and Lewis after him) frequently feature the Randolph Hotel in Oxford. It's an Oxford/detective in-joke y'all.  
> 4 Do we know which Oxford college Cormoran was at? Asking for a friend who knows Oxford a bit...  
> 5 Punting - a kind of boating you do with a pole, a bit like a gondola, in Oxford, Cambridge and Durham. Again, I can only apologise, I fully know how mad this sounds.  
> 6 If you don't give the soaps a sniff as you walk through the Covered Market, who even are you  
> 7 The Broad Street Fudge Kitchen sales tactics - if you know you know  
> 8 You cannot, to my knowledge, by Catullus quotes on keyrings in souvenir shops. Oxford Blue cheese is a real thing though.  
> 9 True story - you swim with ducks around you at the Kenwood Ladies' Pond on Hampstead Heath.  
> 10 Another true story - you can get married there!  
> 11 Extremely proud of my knowledge that Denmark Street falls into the London Borough of Camden and thus that is where they'd get married based on his address. Yes I do need to get a life.  
> 12 Bit of cheeky wish fulfilment for Nick and Isla there because they deserve it and we are rooting for them  
> 13 This may or may not be my ideal dress - no offence to the Vashti poison-green frock  
> 14 Quote from Jhene Aiko's The Worst  
> 15 Of COURSE he still listens to CDs because he's a Luddite who likes love letters. Mm, alliterative.  
> 16 Birkbeck is a part of the University of London where you can take part-time degrees through evening classes.  
> 17 OK so trashing is an Oxford University tradition - when students come out of their final exam, their friends throw garlands and streamers and champagne and food over them, like a happy food party. Yes, Oxford is really weird. http://www.simplyoxford.com/tag/trashing  
> 18 A line at the end of a very romantic chapter in Douglas Adams' book 'So long and thanks for all the fish'


End file.
